


Pieces of Porcelain

by blumints



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumints/pseuds/blumints
Summary: When Blaine Anderson's life takes a twisted turn for the worse, he is unable to find the source of his struggles but there is one thing he's certain of: it couldn't possibly be sweet and innocent Kurt.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Happy Birthday

Maybe he should have seen the signs. Then again, who in their right mind would come to this conclusion? He certainly hadn't. But he should have. He had no excuse.

He is brought back from the dark depths of his mind by the manic face staring back at him from where the door of his ' _room'_ is slightly ajar. The pounding in his chest could be heard in his ears and his sweat slicked hands began to tremble. The familiar yet distorted face was still smiling creepily. He couldn't see the man's - _no, the creature's_ , he reminded himself - mouth but he knew the ear to ear smile that had haunted his dreams was there. The longer he maintained eye contact with the thing, the more terror arose within him, though he daren't look away until he was sure the thing had gone. His eyes began to sting due to the air hitting them as he had a staring competition with his tormentor and he could no longer stave off the need to blink. Upon reopening his eyes, the thing had vanished.

With a groan, he flopped back onto the bed, on which he had been chained. He scratched the skin around the recently spouted horns on his head and wondered how he'd ended up like this.

* * *

_Thump_

He had just finished his shift at the bookshop and was about to lock up and head home when he heard it. He glanced around, looking for the source of the noise before his overactive imagination could cause him to spiral into panic. At first, nothing seemed to be out of place, until he saw a black, leather-bound book titled 'Pieces of Porcelain' by his feet that seemed to vibrate and glow from within. When he picked it up, though, it wasn't vibrating or emitting any light as he had first thought it was. With a shrug of dismissal, he started to look for where the book had come from. It was only when he was looking through the store's stock that he realised they didn't sell a book with that title and that there was no author credited. Deciding that it must have belonged to a customer and that they had simply forgotten it. Though the explanation was flimsy at best, he left the book in what had become the lost and found cupboard before finally locking up and heading back to his apartment building.

Cold early autumn air ambushed the soft skin on his face as he walked home. In an attempt to shield himself from the war waging against his increasingly reddening cheeks, he pulled up the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Despite the freezing wind and the frost settling on the pavements, Blaine could tell that the shiver creeping up his neck that caused his hair to stand on end was not because of the weather. Slowly and steadily his heartbeat picked up the pace along with his footsteps. Hardly a quarter into his twenty minute walk his anxiety was at a peak, he couldn't help the seemingly convulsive turning of his head as he checked that he wasn't being followed. Thankfully the sun had yet to merge with the horizon, otherwise, he'd probably be on the verge of a panic attack by now. He had almost broken into a sprint when his footsteps started to sound as if they were echoing off the walls of the towering buildings that loomed over him. He was sure the echo must be in his imagination, though this did little to nothing to reassure his rampant fear.

For a second, Blaine's panic perished as he wondered how insanely comical he must appear to those looking down at him from their living room windows or to those who passed him. the street was unusually quiet for New York, which did little to help his case because had he been running against a current of people maybe nobody would have noticed that he was running from his own paranoia. The thought was short lived as his terror once again reared its ugly head.

It was a relief when the tall apartment complex in which he lived came into view in the far distance, sure it was still a good ten minutes away but being able to see his destination was reassuring all the same. After the building had come into view, the ten minutes seemed to pass a lot quicker, whether it was because he'd somehow ran faster than what he thought to be his top speed or whether it just seemed quicker because of his desperate need for safety, it didn't matter now because he was home. He let a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he locked the door behind him and slumped against it. He slid down to the floor in a heap and tried to regain his composure, a semblance of control.

Growing up he'd always had an overactive imagination. In some ways it had been a gift, the creativity it had granted him had always meant he thrived in environments where he could unleash it. However, he had realised over the years that having a vivid imagination could also be a curse as much as it was a blessing, for example, the intense episode of paranoia he had just gone through. Usually, these moments were short and less intense than what had just happened on his return home, though. Brushing off the panic as a more intense version of his usual paranoia, he got up from where he sat slumped against the door and made his way towards the kitchen.

His shoebox apartment was located in a nice neighbourhood in Manhattan but it was nothing fancy, he may be from a well off family but his parents pay for the apartment and they insisted on a humble living space. In some ways Blaine preferred the small space, it made the space feel more comfortable, and with the help of his cosy - if a little mismatched - furnishing and décor, he had managed to achieve his ideal safe space.

Taking in the scent and the warmth of his small home, he began to prepare a small meal for his dinner before going to bed. In his bed he stayed awake for hours, the clock on his bedside table ticked past 11pm to 12am until the hour was quickly approaching 3am. It was only then that he was enveloped in a deep sleep that he hadn’t been remotely close to achieving for the past few hours. As he slept his mind seemed to want to make up for the near thoughtlessness that consumed him for his last few hours of consciousness, he was in and out of dreams and nightmares alike in rapid procession. All wildly different but exactly the same in a way that was unexplainable, the only thing that he could comprehend was that in all of these stories the same book continued to appear. ‘ _Pieces of Porcelain_ ’.

* * *

A few weeks passed and the nightmares continued, each one more petrifying than the last. This didn’t dampen his curiosity about the book, in fact he would argue it only made him more eager to read it. He hadn’t experienced anything else like he had on his way home the day he had found the book but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He tried as best as he could to brush off the feeling and continue with his daily chores and routines. He would spend his mornings and early afternoons in lectures, then he’d work his shift at the bookshop - sometimes working overtime - and then he’d head home where he’d study for an hour or two - if he hadn’t worked overtime or had the closing shift - then he would have dinner before getting ready for bed. Someone might say he had a monotonous, boring life but Blaine’s vivid imagination made up for that. The routine kept him grounded. Today was just like any other when he walked into the bookshop ready to start his shift.

"Hey, Dwarf!" Santana greeted him from where she stood behind the front desk. Santana was one of Blaine’s few friends in New York and one of his few co-workers at the bookshop.

"Hi, San, has anyone came by to collect that book yet?" He asked like clockwork, since finding the intriguing book this had become a part of his routine upon entering the small store.

For what seemed like the billionth time, Santana shook her head. "Like the last seventy eight million times you’ve asked, the answer is still No, nobody has come in looking for the book."

Blaine accepted the answer and went to put his bag away before joining Santana behind the front desk.

"Why are you so interested in it anyway? It’s just some ancient paper?" Santana asked, looking at her nails disinterestedly.

"Just because you can’t appreciate a good story, doesn’t mean the rest of the world can."

Santana scoffed at his reply. Unlike most of his other co-workers, Santana had no interest in reading books or the fictional worlds hidden in the pages, she only worked there because her mother owned the store and she found she had more control while working for her mother than for some big corporate business.

They let a mutual silence settle over them, Santana might be one of his closest friends but she wasn’t particularly friendly during work hours. Not that Santana could ever be described as friendly, work just brought out an even sharper and snappier side of Santana that he’d rather not accidentally provoke.

About an hour or so into his shift he felt the feeling he’d had since he returned to his apartment on that evening in late September ebbing away, He no longer felt the eyes on his back and the shadow lurking in the corner of his vision had vanished. He could finally breathe again, the heavy weight in his chest had released him and the feeling of being slowly suffocated with no way to save himself was finally relinquished. He had grown accustomed to the constant discomfort of it by now, so much so that he couldn’t believe the difference it made now it had gone. Despite his relief he couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the feeling and why it had suddenly gone. Maybe it had something to do with his sleeping schedule, he hadn’t been getting enough sleep recently and he knew it. The sleep deprivation must have lead to some kind of hallucinations-

"Excuse me?" A soft voice cut through his thought process and stopped it in it’s tracks.

Blaine shook his head, trying to clear his mind and blinked to clear his vision before looking up at the customer. He felt paralysed. His heart began to pound as if mocking the drum in a marching band and his stomach lurched like it did when a on a rollercoaster. Shades of blue, green and grey spiralled mesmerizingly as the orbs stared into his soul. Delicate alabaster skin stretched over sharp but handsome features and chestnut hair was styled meticulously upon his head. Blaine would confidently say the man who stood in front of him was the very definition of perfect.

"Hello?" The melodic voice interrupted once again, causing Santana to snigger and nudge him with her elbow to bring him out of his trancelike state.

"Oh, I’m sorry about that," Blaine says apologetically, once again shaking his head in hopes of refocusing his mind. "Welcome to Maribel’s Book Nook, how can I help you today?"

Blaine thought he saw a flash of confusion pass across the pale man’s face but his face quickly returned to it’s soul searching stare.

"I was just wondering if you have any books of sheet music?"

Blaine might have imagined the split second of hesitation and the flicker of recognition - was it? - in his eye before the man asked for sheet music but he didn’t think much of it. He’d always been told that he read too much into people, which usually lead to him coming to crazy conclusions. So he ignored his query and showed the young man to where the sheet music was.

"We put sheet music over here," he said as he walked. "We stock a wide variety of genres, there's a label on the shelf that indicates what genre is on it and we stock sheet music for most instruments but if you can't find what you're looking for just let me know and we can order it for you to collect."

The man examined the stuffed shelves carefully before speaking. "I'm quite new to playing the piano, do you have any recommendations for a beginner?" he enquired with a soft smile, turning to look back at Blaine who almost jumped out of his skin with pure excitement.

"Well, I started with simple things like nursery rhymes, but then again I was barely a child when I started taking classes so maybe that's too easy." He hummed looking at the options on the shelves. Again, this was another of his many interests that he didn't often get to talk about as Santana could appreciate good music but when it came to the complexities of a good composition she just didn't have the knowledge or understanding to be as interested by it as Blaine so he often found himself refraining from his passion fuelled rants. "What about this?" he said, taking out a book of sheet music labelled 'for beginners'. Opening to the index he saw that it was mostly simple music and he flicked through the pages to double check before smiling and showing it to the customer. "Yeah, this looks like it would be good for beginners but please feel free to keep looking," he said with a pleasant smile and left the customer to his own devices.

When Blaine turned back around the corner and settled behind the front desk, Santana let out a low whistle.

"What?"

"He was so giving you eyes," Santana said, looking up from the magazine she was flipping through.

"Giving me eyes?" Blaine asked, completely clueless.

Santana huffed. "Giving you eyes, as in undressing you with his eyes, as in eye fucking you."

"He was not!" Blaine huffed indignantly. "And shut up, this place is a ghost town, he'll hear you." He added in a whispered hiss.

Santana barked out a laugh. "Please, it was obvious," she replied, ignoring his latter comment completely.

Blaine groaned and turned away, refusing to indulge Santana's inappropriate remarks.

"And I bet you bored him out of his mind, if he was mentally undressing you before, he definitely won't be when he come back around here. Oh yeah, I heard your little re-enactment of your music theory lectures, you were acting like a school girl with a crush," Santana hissed.

"I was not, he-"

"Ahem."

Blaine's face flushed beet red when the clearing of a throat interrupted their hushed argument. Knowing who was stood watching them, he slowly turned to face the beautiful man while Santana openly howled with laughter.

"Yes?" he said sheepishly, trying to school his grimace into a smile.

"I just wanted to check out," The young man said, showing Blaine the book of sheet music that he had recommended to him.

"Ah, right," Blaine said with a nod as he scurried towards the counter to check him out. "I'm so sorry about that, I don't know how much you heard but I-"

"You don't have to apologise, it was clearly no fault of yours," the customer replied with a sweet smile.

"But we shouldn't have been behaving like that anyway, I'm just really, really sorry," Blaine apologised, sincerity shone in his eyes and was evident in his expression.

The striking man sighed, realising he was going to win. "If it makes you feel better than I accept your unnecessary apology."

Blaine chuckled. "Thank you," he said, handing the man his purchase and watching him leave.

"You're checking out his ass," Santana said to a tune, smirking from where she sat a few feet behind him with her legs propped up on the chair where he had previously been seated.

Blaine rolled his eyes fondly as he turned back around. "Whatever you say, Santana," he said, pulling the chair from under her feet and sitting back down.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Reoccurring nightmares still haunted his mind, though he had grown used to them by now, and after it’s momentary absence in the bookshop, the constant fear had reappeared, always following a few paces behind him wherever he went.

Aside from that his life had been pretty normal; had it not been for the low levels of anxiety that always shadowed him and the book he was so fascinated with, he would have completely forgotten about the terrifying walk home, that when he thought about it, shouldn’t have been so terrifying.

But now was not a time to wonder if he was truly going insane as Santana had taken it upon herself to plan a surprise party for his twenty second birthday. For Santana the surprise part of a surprise party wasn’t about whether the person she was throwing it for knew whether it was happening, it was more so about when, where and her legendary catastrophic themes. As someone with constant anxiety and a terrible habit for coming up with the worse case scenario, no matter how unrealistic said scenario may be, these pop up parties Santana liked to throw created a very cautious Blaine. For weeks leading up to the possibility of a party Blaine would check before turning every corner and make sure any and all hiding spots in his apartment were Santana-less before he would relax. Maybe these parties would be his tipping point and he actually would fly off the rail.

It was the day before his birthday and he had yet to be tackled by a party. This is what lead to Blaine actually creeping around his college campus when he went from one class to another, feeling as if he was walking on egg shells. By the time his classes were over and he was heading to the bookshop for his usual shift, Blaine was starting to feel a little better.

_**"SURPRISE!"** _

Instant regret. A girlish scream escaped him upon opening the door and hearing the cacophony of party poppers and celebratory yells. Santana ran out of the shadows and pulled his trembling form into a warm hug, an uncommon gesture coming from Santana so he pulled himself together and hugged her back while trying to keep his bones steady.

Upon pulling away she presented him with a neatly wrapped present in ominous, black tissue paper. "This is for you," she said, holding out the gift. When Blaine reaches for it though she pulled it away, scolding him. "You will open this after the party when we are alone."

"Why?" Blaine frowned, moving to snatch the neatly wrapped rectangle from her hands.

"Because I said so," Santana smiled and tapped him on the nose before taking his hand and pulling him into the party.

If Blaine hadn’t known this was the bookshop he’d been working at for the past three years, he wouldn’t have recognised it. Black, orange and purple streamers hung from the ceiling and the bookshelves were hidden by a wide variety of black fabric, some silky while others were lacy. The almost clinical white lights had been covered with coloured cellophane to match the streamers, distorting Blaine’s perception of who was in the room. Classic Halloween songs were playing and everyone seemed to be dressed up, even Santana was wearing a short, black dress with a witch’s hat.

Soon they reached the back of the shop where Santana pulled him into the storage room and shoved and bag in his hand. "Get changed and meet me outside," She said as she left the room.

Blaine looked into the bag with raised eyebrows, knowing Santana his costume would be a sexy cat or a sexy toad so he could be her ‘partner in crime’. So it was a pleasant surprise when he saw a pair of devil horns and a set of clothing that would actually cover more than thirty percent of his body.

Quickly, he changed out of his bowtie, button up and slacks and slipped into the maroon skinny jeans and crimson jumper. To finish off the look he adjusted the horns so they fit comfortably on his head and put his loafers back on because he would die before wearing the six inch, candy apple red stilettos Santana has put in the bag.

He took one step out of the door and Santana was already pulling him away. She dragged him forcefully up a flight of stairs to the apartment she lived in above the shop and manhandled him onto the stool in front of her vanity.

"Now what?" Blaine asked.

"Surely you didn’t think that was the entire costume," Santana replied, not giving Blaine the chance to answer as makeup was soon being applied to his face at the speed of lightening.

Eventually, Santana took a step back, dusting off her hands with a smug smirk, clearly pleased with the work she had done. "Look in the mirror." She said, taking him roughly by the shoulders and turning him around so that he was facing the mirror.

Santana had worked wonders. His curls we’re now free of their gel, which he hadn’t even noticed her doing, and were styled so they weren’t too wild. She had put eyeliner in his waterline and applied some mascara to accentuate his eyes. She also put some gold highlight on his cheekbones and lightly contoured his cheek bones and jawline. He couldn’t help admiring his reflection.

"Why aren’t you wearing the stilettos?" Santana’s annoyed voice crashed through his awe, bringing him hastily back to reality.

"They’re uncomfortable and they won’t fit," he replied with a shrug, refusing to budge.

Santana huffed and began rummaging through her stuffed closet. She crawled right to the back and said ‘Aha!’ as she reversed out of the wardrobe and thrust a pair of black, knee high platform boots with chunky buckles going up the front into Blaine’s hands. "You need something to disguise your midget-ness," she shrugged as if there was no other solution and left him to return to the party.

He sighed and put on the pair of boots in defeat.

Holding onto the banister like a life line, he wobbled down the flight of stairs and hobbled through the door leading to the party. He glanced around the room, hoping to see Santana but she was nowhere to be seen. With a roll of his eyes Blaine made his way towards the buffet table to get a drink to stand in the corner with, since he had a feeling that that’s all he wouldn’t be doing for the next two hours.

Taking a can of coke from a box of ice, he noticed someone he didn’t recognise across the room. Among all the dark colours of the partygoers costumes, one man stood out.

He wore all white and a halo attached to a thin wire gave the impression it was floating above his head.

Santana might try (and succeed) in pushing some of his boundaries but the one thing she’d always respected was that Blaine preferred more intimate parties with just friends from his classes and co-workers so who on Earth was this guy? Had Santana finally decided to poke the bear with a stick and invite a total stranger? His brain scrambled as he searched for a name and a face or a reason why Santana would betray him like this on his birthday until the man turned around.

The guy who had been ‘eye fucking him’ when he came into the store for sheet music stood across the room smiling at him. Blaine politely smiled back and waved at him. He seemed to take this as an invitation to come over.

"Hey, this is a pretty cool party," the guy said, leaning on the buffet table.

Blaine snorted. "You don’t have to lie, Santana might be a five star party planner but the dedication she puts in can’t make up for the lack of liveliness." He would be the first to admit that he and his friends might be considered boring by others’ standards but they just aren’t the party animals that most other college kids are. Instead they find excitement in the intricacies of musical compositions and their Saturday morning book club.

The guy shrugged "A party doesn’t have to be a rave for it to be good. Personally, I prefer a calmer atmosphere where I can enjoy the company," he reassured Blaine with a genuine smile.

A bashful smile covered Blaine’s face as he looked away, shyly. "Um," he cleared his throat, "Can I ask why you’re here? I don’t mean to sound rude it’s just usually m co-worker, Santana only invites close friends."

The man shrugged again. "I came back to the store a while ago and the girl who I’m assuming is Santana invited me, I don’t think you were around when it happened."

 _Odd_ , Blaine thought, Santana would usually take an opportunity like this to tease him.

"Well, I’m Blaine and you’re currently at my surprise Birthday party," Blaine said, gesturing to the room around him as if to show Kurt the party.

"Happy Birthday, Blaine. I’m Kurt." He held out his hand to shake and Blaine shook it with a small smile. "I have to admit that I did come hoping that you’d be here." Seeing Blaine’s confused expression he continued, "Santana’s invitation was very vague."

"Was it something along the lines of party, date, time, dress code and ‘Be there or else’?" Kurt nodded and Blaine hummed, familiar with such an invitation. "I’ve received many invitations in a similar fashion but why were you hoping to see me?" Blaine asked, looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

Kurt took a deep breath. "I was hoping that I could get your number," he answered with small smirk.

The dimly lit room seemed to freeze in time as Blaine’s heart jumped for joy and his cheeks became a faint red under the makeup. Hoping that Kurt couldn’t tell how flustered he was, he asked for Kurt’s phone and made a new contact...

* * *

Later that evening, he and Santana were snuggled up with blankets on the sofa in Blaine’s apartment with a mug of hot chocolate warming up their hands. They had only just gotten comfy when Santana chocked on her drink, put it down on the coffee table and leapt to her feet.

"I almost forgot," she said, speed walking over to where she had abandoned her coat and bag by the door. She searched through her things before pulling out the gift she had presented to Blaine when he had entered the bookshop hours earlier. "Here," she said holding it out to him as she moved to sit back on the sofa with him.

"Can I open it now?" He teased with an exaggerated pout.

Santana softly smacked him upside the head with a laugh. "Yes you can."

He unpeeled the present, careful not to tear any of the delicate paper as the object inside was slowly revealed. Santana faked a snore, she’d always pretended to be bothered by the way he opened presents.

Soon it was obvious to Blaine that it was a leather bound book but he didn’t realise which exactly it was until the cover was completely uncovered.

‘ _Pieces of Porcelain_ ’

He didn’t know how to react but he felt his jaw drop. "I- I don’t know what to say, where did you find this?" He asked when he could get his mouth to work again.

"Um, in the cupboard where it’s always been," Santana replied, the statement sounding a lot like a question.

"Wait, _what_? You mean it’s not a new copy? Santana you can’t give me this! What if the owner comes looking for it?" Blaine splutters, outraged.

Santana took a hold of his shoulders and forced him to make eye contact with her. "Blaine, it’s been a month. Nobody is looking for it." Santana said, calming the curly haired man down.

For some reason, the simple statement relaxed him. His shallow breathes had began to deepen and his drumming heart returned to its usual rhythm. "You’re right." He nodded, hugging the book to his chest. "Thank you, Santana"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {11/10/20}
> 
> Hi, this is the Halloween project that I have been working on and I hope you all enjoy!  
> For regular updates follow my Instagram: blumints
> 
> Word Count: 4804
> 
> ‘Pieces of Porcelain’ is also available to read on FanFiction.Net, Quotev and Wattpad under the same user name.
> 
> Please give me a kudos and comment! I really appreciate feedback and constructive criticism!
> 
> If you want to read my other works, they’re also available on AO3 and the platforms stated above.
> 
> All cover art is mine! See it on my Instagram: blumints


	2. Santana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains material that could upsetting for some readers. In this chapter Santana goes missing. My stories tend to write themselves because I’m horrific at planning and I didn’t realise how insensitive this could be until I’d already published the first chapter and it was too late to change things. However, I want to reassure you all that she will be okay!

* * *

_Itching, Burning, Aching. The pain was excruciating but necessary. The thrum of energy re-entering me beneath the pain was familiar and somewhat soothing. For the first time in a few thousand years, my eyes shoot open and thank god the sun has already set, adding scorched retinas to the long list of pain is something I prefer to avoid._

* * *

Soon October turned into November but Blaine hardly noticed. He went about his usual routine like he always had the only difference being that coffee outings with Kurt had become a regular occurrence and had a designated slot in his schedule. They'd spoken for hours at the party and every time they'd seen each other since they had had long, heartfelt conversations. He couldn't help feeling safe with Kurt, as if they were in a world of their own where there was no such thing as cruelty.

He was also heavily invested in his new book, every evening he'd go to bed a few hours earlier just to read. It came as a surprise to Blaine that upon further inspection the book seemed to be as old as Santana had predicted, ancient. Obviously this is an exaggeration but it certainly wasn't a massive exaggeration. The yellowing pages were worn and thin, part of Blain worried that if he didn't find a way to preserve the book that it might disintegrate in his hands. He daren't take it to read on the subway or between classes in case something happened that would damage the book.

Hurrying to finish the page, he hopped into his shoes and put the leather bound book on the small, circular dining table before heading out of his apartment. Picking up speed, he made his way down the corridor, out of the building and before he knew it he was squished into a narrow seat on the subway, on his way to the coffee shop where he planned to meet Kurt. Today he was hoping to make things official with Kurt, or at the very east ask him out on a proper date. Coffee shops might be cosy but Kurt deserved ground-breaking romance. Blaine repeated the ideas he had for dates he could take Kurt on as he left the subway station and walked into the coffee shop down the street, he only stopped when he saw the angelic face he'd been waiting to see since they parted ways a few days before. At their usual table by the window sat Kurt, waving with a coy smile and two cups of coffee in front of him. He felt his face light up as he moved towards Kurt and sat in the large armchair across from him.

"Hey," Kurt breathed when Blaine had settled in his seat.

"Hi," Blaine replied, "long time no see."

Kurt rolled his eyes fondly. "Because three days is such a long time."

"It is when I'm counting down to the next time I'll see you," Blaine smiled, hoping the line wasn't too cheesy.

Kurt blushed and looked away. “You’re really cheesy, you know that?”

Blaine smiled over his mug of coffee and shrugged. “I can’t help it, it’s a side effect of being charismatic yet incredibly awkward at the same time.”

At this Kurt laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re awkward. Charismatic on the other hand, well I will have to agree with that.”

Blaine felt his heart skip a beet and his cheeks heat up a little. “How has your day been?”

While Kurt recounted his day, Blaine listened, entranced by Kurt’s voice and his enthusiastic expressions and hand gestures. Over the last few coffee outings Blaine had noticed that Kurt often spoke with his hands, in a way it added to Kurt’s enthusiastic charm and made his childlike wonder at the world around him that much more adorable. Blaine suspected that Kurt could be describing the shades of grey on the pavement but as long as he was describing them in such a lively way, Blaine would always sit and watch in awe.

"And then I rode a lion all the way here," Kurt finished with a smirk as he watched the flicker of confusion cross over Blaine's face.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you rode a _lion_ to the coffee shop?" Blaine asked upon being brought out of his daze by the statement.

"I thought you'd zoned out on me," he explained.

"I'm sorry, you just captivate me and sometimes my thoughts runaway with me," Blaine apologised, hoping his embarrassment wasn't blatantly clear on his face.

An emotion that Blaine couldn't discern flashed across Kurt's expression before he quickly schooled his facial features to from a smile. "I think I'll take that as a compliment," he said.

"It's a compliment, I promise," Blaine assured him.

"Okay, good," Kurt replied with a relieved chuckle. "But tell me about your day." Blaine was about to brush off Kurt's request, saying his day is always the same as the last when Kurt spoke again. "And before you say it's boring or that I've heard it before, it's just an excuse to listen to your voice."

Blaine felt his cheeks getting even pinker and started to briefly describe his day. He might've recounted his music theory classes in more detail than was necessary but he couldn't help himself and Kurt didn't seem to mind either. One of the things he'd found out about Kurt over their coffee outings is that he has an incredible amount of patience. It's like he has all the time in the world to just sit and listen to Blaine ramble on about how Santana was particularly irritable that day or how a pompous customer had made impossible demands at the book shop. Even the time when Blaine switched to his first language without noticing, Kurt had sat and listened intently. He later admitted he didn't understand a word of it but he still had chosen not to comment on it.

"And I finished reading the fourth chapter of my new book before coming to meet you here," Blaine finished.

"A new book? You haven't mention that before," Kurt commented, taking a sip of his drink.

"I haven't?" Kurt shook his head and Blaine took this as a cue to continue. "Oh, well, as I said I only just finished the fourth chapter but it's about a demon who's summoned to the human world for the first time in over a thousand years and to survive there he must consume the soul of the human that summoned him."

Kurt hummed. "Sounds interesting, what's happened so far?"

Blaine took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat to start his retelling. "The book starts with the demon, Porcelain, waking up and finding the human that summoned him. Porcelain stalks it's prey and tries to earn their trust throughout chapter two and three. Not much happened in four but I think the demon's going to fall in love with Devon. That's the human, by the way." Blaine sighed, his romantic side quite liked the concept of Porcelain having a soft side.

Kurt frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"If Porcelain was as heartless as he's first made out to be he would have already consumed Devon's soul," Blaine explained.

Kurt seemed to consider this for a moment before asking, "Doesn't that seem a bit unhealthy? Porcelain did stalk Devon for however many chapters-"

"He still does it into chapter 4"

"I just mean, A) that's a stalker and his victim and B) Porcelain's a demon and Devon's a human," Kurt finished his point after Blaine had cut in.

Blaine's brows furrowed as he thought about what Kurt had said. Now he'd heard it in a different light, he did see where Kurt was coming from. It's scary that romance authors can write about what would be a crime in real life as if they're romantic and how those rooting for the couple will ignore or be completely oblivious to how horrifying these scenarios actually are. Blaine nodded, agreeing with Kurt. "You're right, it's probably some kind of mind game."

Kurt looked as if he was about to reply when he hesitated and his phone beeped. He checked what it was and put the phone back in his coat pocket with a groan before turning to Blaine with an apologetic smile. "I've got to go. I'm free at 1pm on Sunday, is that time okay with you?" he suggested as he got out of his seat.

Feeling inadequate, Blaine got up from his seat too. "Okay, but I was wondering if I could take you out on a date?"

Kurt seemed to be surprise by the question.

Not wanting to hear the rejection Blaine quickly continues, "We can go whenever you're free, even if that's next week or in a few weeks. I was just thinking a movie and dinner. I'm really sorry if I've made this awkward-"

"No, no, you haven't! I'd love to go out sometime but I've really got to get going so text me the details, okay?" Kurt smiled, though his eyes were a little wider than usually and he still looked slightly alarmed by the idea. Or maybe he was just cautious? Before Blaine could ask if Kurt was really okay with this, Kurt nodded as if to reassure himself and then swiftly left the coffee shop.

* * *

  
Santana frowned as she turned the page of her magazine. "And then he just left?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah but he's a busy guy," he said, turning to look at his co-worker from where he stood restocking a shelf with a new order of books. Santana raised and eyebrow and pursed her lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing..." Santana replied, continuing to flick through her magazine.

"Don't brush me off, Satan. You clearly have an opinion so please spit it out." Blaine replied, irritated by Santana's lack of response.

Santana sighed and put down her magazine. "It's just a little sketchy. You almost tell me word for word what happens on your coffee dates, which there have been many of, and you barely know him!"

"I do know him"

"Okay, Dwarf, where does he run off to after your coffee dates? What's he always so busy with?" Santana asked, standing up from the stool she was lounging on and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I- I don't know but does it matter? I know that he's from Ohio, his last name is Hummel, he graduated from Parsons last year and I could go on but I'm sure I'd bore you to death," Blaine said, turning his back on Santana.

Like that first day Kurt had wondered into the book shop, the store was quiet. As a result, upon entering the store Blaine had been bombarded by Santana with questions about his most recent outing with Kurt. She then continued to analyse every interaction as she usually would when he recounted his time with Kurt. At first Santana had liked Kurt, she thought he'd be really good for boosting Blaine's confidence but now something didn't seem right. She huffed and went to get her laptop from her apartment upstairs, ignoring Blaine's spluttering protests at being left alone to run the shop. With her laptop in hand, she made her way back behind the counter and began typing.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked as he finished what he was doing and moved to look over Santana's shoulder at what she was doing.

"What else do you know about Kurt?" she asked, swatting Blaine away.

"Answer my question first," He said, dodging her hand.

"I'll show you when I'm done."

"Fine," Blaine gave in and joined Santana behind the till, sitting on the stool across from her. He inhaled and then exhaled deeply as he thought of something that might be useful in some way. "He said his dad owns a tire shop in Lima, I think he said it's called Hummel Tires & Lube."

Santana snorted, earning a light nudge from Blaine. "Anything else?"

Blaine shrugged. "Just stuff like his coffee order and silly childhood stories; I didn't feel comfortable asking him anything too deep when we've only been hanging out for a few weeks."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever, my Mexican third eye is telling me something's up and I'm going to investigate."

"San, I really think you're overreacting. What if he's had a bad experience with relationships in the past and that's why he's acting 'sketchy' as you so kindly put it?" Blaine replied, attempting to sway Santana's determination.

"Nope, I trust my gut and I'm going to prove you wrong whether you like it or not, Shorty," Santana replied with a wag of her finger in Blaine's direction.

* * *

Santana left for Ohio a few days after their conversation. Blaine had thought any suspicions she had would be wildly off target but didn't try to stop her, she wouldn't find anything anyway. He'd been going about his week with the constant feeling of terror itching at the back of his mind when it suddenly disappeared. Trying no to think too much about the loss of the feeling he had grown used to over the past two months, he continued with his week. Without the lingering fear, he dared to be more spontaneous and relax hen it came to his schedule. He didn't even mildly panic when he got to their regular coffee shop and just as he was taking his seat he received a text from Kurt saying he couldn't make it. Sure, it was disappointing but Blaine just got up and carried on with his day instead of experiencing the dread that followed last minute cancellations. However, the freedom was short lived and the paranoia had returned by the end of the week. Again, he didn't think too much into it.

Only when he walked into his usual shift at the book store two weeks after his conversation with Santana to find her mother waiting for him, did he realise something was amiss.

"Mrs Lopez, what are you doing here?" He asked, taking off his coat. Despite Maribel Lopez being the legal owner of the store, she very rarely actually visited the shop. Sometimes she would come to check that everything was running smoothly but most of the time she relied on her daughter's feedback.

"I came to visit Santana, since she hasn't been answering my calls, but she hasn't answered the door and my key isn't working," she replied with a frown. "I was wondering if you've heard from her recently?"

Blaine shook his head. "I haven't heard form her since she left for Ohio but she was supposed to be back a few days ago."

Maribel nodded in acknowledgement. "Do you think she might still be in Ohio?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "There was a snow storm that stopped planes from flying but Santana should have already been back in New York by then."

Maribel had begun pacing and worrying her lip between her teeth. "Where could she be?" Luckily the lady continued to ramble because Blaine didn't know what to tell her. "Maybe she's with a friend? But she doesn't really have any close friends, other than you, of course. Should I call the police, or am I worrying for nothing?"

Blaine walked over to his employer and gently took her shoulders to stop her from pacing. "Maribel, take deep breaths and try to calm down. I'm sure Santana is fine but give her today to show up before calling the police."

Maribel nodded. "Okay, thank you, Blaine. Keep an eye out for her!"

"I will, Mrs Lopez," he called to her as she left the store.

* * *

But Santana didn't turn up. She didn't call or text either. Her mother had been coming to the book shop more often to ask Blaine the same questions _'Have you heard from her?_ ' and _'Have you seen her?'_. Maribel had called the police a the day after her conversation with Blaine but they hadn't been much help. They'd brushed the case under the rug, assuming she'd ran away. Of course they hadn't straight up said that but it was heavily implied. Blaine had to admit that it might look like that to an outsider, that Santana didn't want to be found. He might even believe it had she not told him why she would be going to Ohio.

It had been a few weeks since Santana had gone to Ohio and he had just finished a shift at the book shop with his somewhat new shift partner, Rachel Berry. She was a whirlwind of a girl and regularly made him want to gouge his eyes out just to distract himself from her screeching voice. She had started working at Maribel's Book Nook around the time Santana had disappeared and was given Santana's shifts until she returned. Some might think that Rachel's lively positivity is a breath of fresh air after Santana's snarky pessimism but they would be wrong. Blaine found himself drained after every shift with Rachel because she _never_ shut up. She was always whining about preparing for an audition and how the experience of a _'working girl'_ was sure to do her some good.

Though he'd never say it to her face out of fear that it would just inflate her ego, Rachel Berry had become a regular subject to complain about during his coffee outings with Kurt. Kurt found it quite amusing, which would just aggravate Blaine more as Kurt watched him with a smirk.

"Yesterday she asked me for water with lemon slices to soothe her vocal chords! As if I was her slave!" Blaine complained, sinking back in his chair.

"But you still got it for her."

"But I _still_ got it for her," Blaine whined "Then she said they were the _wrong_ lemons and asked me to go to the store and get her the _right_ lemons, I was enraged! So I said no and she stormed off like a child!"

"But you caved and got them anyway."

"But I caved and got them anyway!" Blaine sobbed into his hands while Kurt sat across from him chuckling. "What's so funny?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, it's just the way you tell me."

Blaine groaned. "I miss Santana, if she would just come back I'd be rid of Berry."

Kurt frowned. "Did she quit?"

Blaine looked back up at Kurt, "I thought I told you she went missing."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "I don't think you did."

 _'How did I forget to tell Kurt?'_ Blaine wondered before telling Kurt what happened a few weeks ago. "She went to Ohio for just under a week but she didn't come back and nobody has heard from her since."

Kurt didn't reply at first, his brow furrowed in thought. "Why did she go to Ohio?"

Not wanting to tell Kurt the real reason, he quickly replied, "To visit family."

"I thought you said all of Santana's family currently lives in New York."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak when he thought _'When and why would I have mentioned that to Kurt?'_. Santana regularly came up in conversation but not in a context that would explain how Kurt knew that. Blaine was surprised but he often found himself jumping from topic to topic and wouldn't have been surprised if he'd mentioned it in passing without noticing. "Her grandparents recently moved, they'd been wanting to move out of the city for a while."

Kurt seemed hesitant to accept the excuse but stiffly nodded. "Did anyone contact her grandparents?" Kurt asked.

"They were the first people her mother called." said Blaine.

Kurt nodded, his jaw clenched. Something about Kurt scared Blaine in that moment. There was a dangerous edge in his tone, a vicious look in his eye and the stiff way he held himself radiated pure and utter rage. However it was all gone in a second and Kurt returned to his patient, calm demeanour. _'I must have been projecting'_ Blaine thought, shaking his head to clear his mind.

* * *

Stomach turning dread had started to become the norm for Blaine and all of those who knew Santana, the worry was eating away at them all, Maribel especially.

Had it not been for the pacing footsteps, you could have heard a pin drop in the bookshop. Rachel, for once, seemed to have read the room and wasn't droning on about her guaranteed stardom. Maribel was pacing back and forth in front of Blaine's till, muttering under her breath. Blaine was trying his hardest to soothe her but by the third week his reassurances were fruitless.

"Are you sure she went to Ohio? What if she went to California or Paris and lost her phone?" Maribel asked Blaine, hoping and praying that the answer would be different this time.

Blaine took a deep breath. "She told me she was going to Ohio, beyond that I don't know, Maribel," he said softly, not wanting to cause her any more stress.

Maribel sighed in defeat. “I know, I know but I can’t help it. I’m just so worried that I find myself repeating everything, hoping that someone will remember something useful.”

Blaine gave her a sympathetic smile. “Try to focus on staying calm and taking care of yourself so that _when_ Santana returns, her mother hasn’t worn herself into the ground,” he said.

“You’re right, you’re always right,” she rolled her eyes fondly. She said her goodbyes and wished Blaine luck on his second date with Kurt before leaving the shop where she had been pacing for the better part of three hours.

“This is really serious, isn’t it?”

Blaine must have gotten whiplash from the speed at which he turned to Rachel with a horrified look on his face. “Of course it is! Did you think the was some elaborate hoax?” He demanded, outraged by Rachel’s previous question.

“No, of course not! I- I just didn’t realise how serious it is. From what I’ve heard about Santana she seems like the type of gal who would take off out of nowhere and go on month long road trips, ya know? The rebellious, freewheeling type.” Rachel elaborated with her hands held up as if to beg for mercy.

Blaine had to let breathless chuckle at that. “If I’m being honest, she is. But she wouldn’t leave us all worried, she’d find a way to contact us and let us know that she’s okay.”

Rachel nodded in understanding. “What is she like?”

Blaine inhaled deeply, preparing to recount every funny moment the pair had enjoyed together. “I’ll start at the beginning because it does a really good job of setting the pace, as the beginning should. I met her on my first shift here, I’d taken three steps through the door and she looks up from her magazine, smirks and says ‘ _Huh, well would you look at that mutt._ ’”

Rachel snorted. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Blaine smiled remembering the explanation he’d demanded two years into their friendship. “She claimed to have mistaken me for an overgrown poodle.” He shrugged but the explanation seemed to make sense to Rachel as it only made her laugh harder.

Between bursts of laughter she would coo at him like one did a dog until Kurt came to pick up at the end of his shift and Blaine would be able to make his escape from the hair ruffling, baby talk and tummy tickling.

When Kurt did eventually enter the store Rachel seemed to stiffen, giving Kurt a suspicious look from where she was finishing restocking a shelf as he made his way to the counter. He lightly tapped the bell and the resounding ring filled the quiet store. Before Blaine could get to the front desk, Rachel had hurried over and was now stood at the till in front of Kurt. 

“How can I help you?” She asked, an exaggerated smile plastered thickly on his face.

“Um, I’m just here to pick up Blaine,” When Rachel’s suspecting smile and raised eyebrow didn’t waiver he continued, “I’m Kurt.”

Rachel dramatically gasped, “So you’re the Kurt I’ve heard so much about, I’m Rachel Berry.”

At this Kurt shifted to match her stiff posture. “I’ve heard so much about you too.”

Rachel faked a chuckle, “All good things I hope.”

Kurt just smiled as Blaine emerged from the back room.

”Oh, hi Kurt! Just let me get my coat and we can get going.” He said with his usual giddy smile as he ran off to get his coat.

“I don’t like Rachel.” Kurt said as they exited the bookstore.

Blaine let out a loud laugh, “I know she can be intolerable at times but it’s not all bad.”

Kurt shrugged, a serious frown stuck on his face. “Don’t trust her Blaine, she gives me bad vibes.”

“Come on Kurt, she’s not that bad-”

“Don’t trust her.”

Blaine was taken aback. Despite Rachel’s selfish nature he’d thought Kurt would really enjoy her company once he got to know her.

Kurt finally looked up at Blaine from where he’d been glaring lasers into the pavement, concern replacing the glare. “Look, it’s just a gut feeling. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Blaine quickly shook his head. “I’m not hurt but I can assure you that Rachel is harmless.”

Kurt sighed in defeat and a soft smile slipped onto his lips, “Okay, if you say so.”

* * *

  
It was Kurt’s turn to pick the restaurant. He’d chosen was a small restaurant - a whole in the wall, really. It was the kind of place you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking for it.

They’d chosen to sit at a table in the rooftop garden of the unusually short building. Fairy lights were strung overheard and only added to cozy, intimate atmosphere created by the aesthetic. It wasn’t very classy but Blaine had to admit he favoured this over the alarmingly posh (and pricey) place he had taken Kurt on their first date. If this was a competition, Kurt would have won based on destination alone by a landslide. Maybe he’d misread Kurt. He would have thought Kurt was the kind of guy who like the luxury lifestyle.

They talked about everything and nothing as the night commenced and the candle light flickered.

“I like the idea of sharing a cheesecake, what do you think?” Kurt suggested as they were selecting their desserts.

“What types of cheesecake do they have? Because if it’s lemon or strawberry then I don’t think I could get through it,” Blaine replied, flicking through the seemingly endless dessert menu to find the cheesecakes.

”There’s chocolate cheesecake, regular cheesecake, New York cheesecake-”

‘ _New York State of Mind_ ’ rung from Blaine’s phone and subsequently cut Kurt off. Blaine’s stomach dropped and his heartbeat picked up. He’d set ‘ _New York State of Mind_ ’ as Maribel’s ringtone. He scrambled for his phone, knowing she wouldn’t call him when she knew he was on a date if it wasn’t important.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” Blaine answered the call, not even bothering to leave the table to have privacy. “Hello-”

“Blaine, it’s Santana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {06/12/20}
> 
> Hi, I hope you enjoyed and that this chapter didn’t upset anyone too much, again I would like to reassure you than Santana will be fine! 
> 
> Word Count: 4553
> 
> ‘Pieces of Porcelain’ is also available to read on FanFiction.Net, Quotev and Wattpad under the same user name.
> 
> Please give me a kudos and comment! I really appreciate feedback and constructive criticism!
> 
> If you want to read my other works, they’re also available on AO3 and the platforms stated above.
> 
> For regular updates follow my Instagram: blumints
> 
> All cover art is mine! See it on my Instagram: blumints


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